


On the Nature of Clownery

by CatKing_Catkin



Category: Dice Will Roll (Podcast)
Genre: C02E06 - Rivals & Runes, Character Study, Circus, Clowns, Episode Related, Friendship, Gen, Implied Relationships, Introspection, Rivalry, Team as Family, Teamwork, street performing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:41:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26342794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatKing_Catkin/pseuds/CatKing_Catkin
Summary: Some musings on rolling an 11 for your last Performance check and still putting on the better grand finale.Because, after all, teamwork is a beautiful thing.(Volio has very definite opinions about what it means to be a clown and plenty of time to dwell on them while Jellicho Boing-Boing puts on his show.)
Relationships: Volio Via & Eriato Bati & Royari San Sarnax, Volio Via & Jellicho Boing-Boing
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	On the Nature of Clownery

Volio Via has long held very definite opinions about What It Means to Be A Clown.

Volio Via has only, within the last year or so, realized that most of his formative examples about How To Be A Clown were terrible and bad and wrong and stupid. So he’s had to make a lot of these opinions up for himself as he goes along. That doesn’t make them any less definite - or, in his very definite opinion, any less _right_.

_Being a clown means…_

It means always being a half pace out of step with the rest of the world - but _just_ a half pace. Too little and you’re just like everyone else. Too much and you cease to be funny because part of being funny, really truly funny, involves observing and being in touch with the world around you. Humor, _true_ humor, requires a connection. And being exactly a half pace out of step is an art, no different than walking a tightrope. It takes skill. It is a skill to be proud of, a skill to cultivate like a prized flower. 

And if you can learn to lead others along the half-step path behind you like a joyously discordant parade, then so much the better.

(He would _die_ for Eriato he would _die_ for Royari he _will_ die before he lets Madame Dusklight come _one half-step closer_.)

_Being a clown means…_

Being a clown means keeping everyone, absolutely everyone, on their toes. It means reminding them that life is chaos and chaos is a joke, the biggest joke ever that will play itself on anyone and everyone so there’s nothing to be done but laugh. And what better way to remind everyone than to serve by example, to be a living warning? Being a clown means being the joke and being the first to laugh at it so everyone else can learn better.

So look at him - behold, the gangling freak who looks like he just barely escaped a taffy puller! Gaze upon his pale, pallid skin, so white that most people assume at a distance that he _must_ be wearing a nice long-sleeved shirt. Marvel and be amazed at his mismatched eyes betraying two discordant ancestries forever fighting like cats in his blood!

He’ll be the first to admit that he’s a hysterical freak of nature, after all. 

But then you have creatures like Jellicho Boing-Boing.

The long and the short and the up-down-sideways of it is that it’s actually possible to fit a lot of introspection into a very short time. This is especially true if you are Volio and your thoughts are already prone to painting lightning-bright zigzag circles too fast to grasp anyway. And it is these thoughts that Volio dwells on as he watches Jellicho Boing-Boing caper and cavort his way through his impromptu performance in the streets of Abberton, during this impromptu face-off between the Wayward Wonders and the Celestial Menagerie.

After all, Jellicho \- nemesis, criminal, monster and _cheater_ that he is - goes against everything that makes a clown what they are. 

Because Jellicho delights in being as far out of step with everyone else as he can. And Jellicho is the one laughing at everyone else. He really is quite vain and sensitive, you see, if he thinks someone else is laughing at _him_. And yet, he exults in being as horrifying as he can for the sake of it - no meaning, no artistry. He _inflicts_ himself on the world and the world gains nothing from it, neither lessons nor laughs. 

Jellicho runs through his paces to put on a show for the audience, a performance of juggling and flips and cackling laughter. Volio supposes that, as far as acrobatics go, its impressive enough to the average layperson. There is applause, when the monster flips back to his feet and takes a final bow. Volio wonders idly to himself how much might simply be from relief that the unsettling display is over and done with. 

Then Volio feels the eyes of the crowd, the eyes of friend and foe alike, turn towards him expectantly. Then he grins, big and broad enough to make his face hurt, as he feels delighted laughter start to bubble up in his chest. Just for a moment, Oddbody is a familiar, insidious warmth twining around his ankles.

Then Volio flings his arms wide in a performer’s flourish while his magic crackles to life. Brilliant runes of lightning flash into existence above and around him. It’s a hell of an opener, if he says so himself.

Now comes the fun part.

Now comes the part where he gets to do _better_. 

And so he does.

By the time he takes his bow, the applause is pleasantly deafening. His own magic has left dancing afterimages of brilliance in front of his eyes.

(Being a clown means making children laugh and gasp and cheer. That’s pretty cool, too. The adults - well, he can take or leave them depending on the day. But kids make a great audience.)

After that, there’s not much to do but hang back and watch his friends take out the remainder of the trash - from Royari cartwheeling through Danica’s own flaming hoop with breathtaking style to Eriato out-performing Victor in his own element to the point that he scorches his own toes. By the time the finale arrives, it almost feels like a needless formality.

Luckily for the people of Abberton, the Wandering Three aren’t about to let _that_ stop them from humiliating these interlopers one last time. Volio giggles to himself at the thought, as he watches Danica, Victor, and Jellicho set up for their last chance to salvage any kind of dignity for themselves out of today.

As he watches, he thinks to himself that there’s one other thing makes a true clown. It is perhaps the most important thing, which Volio embraces wholeheartedly and knows that Jellicho recoils from the very idea of. 

Being a clown means never _really_ being the center of attention.

It means being the warm-up and the cool-down, the interstitial piece, the one who hypes up the audience and gets them in the right headspace for the real main attractions. A clown makes sure the rough edges of someone else’s act get all smoothed out before anyone can notice that they’re there. A clown is the connective tissue of a performance which supports its true beating heart.

A clown never goes last in a grand finale. A clown is never the _star_ of a grand finale.

So of course, Jellicho Boing-Boing goes last in the Menagerie’s final act, makes himself and his awful face the note that _their_ show ends on, because he is a bad and terrible clown.

And in the time it takes for their enemies to put out their fires, Volio has already decided how he is going to _open_ the finale for the Wayward Wonders. Before the sounds of enemy applause have even entirely finished dying away, he is already moving to put the pieces into place. 

_“My plank!”_

_“I’ll bring it back!”_

Moving with huge, bouncing, ground-eating strides and already vibrating with anticipation, he grabs a plank and he grabs a barrel and he brings one into conjunction with the other so the end result is a makeshift seesaw. One end is raised on his side of the barrel, the other is down and awaiting his friends to step aboard. 

He looks to them and they look to him and then, with a gratifying lack of hesitation, they get into position. They do this because they trust him. Why shouldn’t they? He is, after all, a very good clown. Besides, he is so _excited_ at the chance to give them a chance to fly. 

Volio Via is an artist and an acrobat and a performer. He knows how to make every motion big and exaggerated and impressive. The act of bringing his hammer up and around and down so that it catches the light and casts the most dramatic shadow is almost as much of an art as knowing exactly how to hit his end of the seesaw.

But he knows that part very well too, of course.

He brings the hammer down hard enough to feel the reverberations up through the soles of his feet. The axis of the seesaw _flips_ , sending Royari and Eriato spiraling up into the air. 

And then he stands back and watches with the rest of the crowd as Royari soars up and up, graceful as a falcon and twice as beautiful, watches them reach down at the very top of their arc to grab Eriato and fling her up even higher still. The crowd has just enough time to gasp and cheer at the way he spirals and tumbles back to the ground before Eriato lights up the sky above them all in a torrent of color and light to outshine the sun itself. 

And Volio knows, even before the applause starts up, that their battle is won. 


End file.
